


All These Little Pieces

by WanderingSummerBreeze



Category: Defending Jacob (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-29 02:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30149136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingSummerBreeze/pseuds/WanderingSummerBreeze
Summary: You’ve had a bad day and Andy’s is the genesis of that. You decide to let out some frustration.Warnings: mommy/daddy kink, anal play w/ an object (male receiving)****My first CE fandom story. Not really into mommy kink, but the world around me turned this fic out in my head.
Relationships: Andy Barber/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	All These Little Pieces

You’ve had it. Shitty clients and their shitty demands with their shitty kids running around your office instead of tossing them in some kennel where they belong. You lock the door to your office, sighing in frustration at the day from hell. Pulling away from the frame, your flowy navy skirt, with its delicate little floral pattern intricately placed throughout, catches on the metal door frame, tearing your skirt on the side. You whimper in defeat at the day. You want nothing more than to pour yourself a glass of wine and take a bath. 

You hop in Andy’s Audi, the slick leather a cold reminder against your skin reminding you precisely where your day started to go wrong.

Andy got in late the night before, and instead of parking on the street, he blocked you in - knowing full well you had an early meeting so that you had to go back in the house and dig through his pant pockets, slewn casually over the chair in the bedroom, to find the keys. You fumble through the pockets all the while glaring at his naked back peaking through the top of the sheets as he softly snored, arm thrown casually across your pillow. You love this man. Adore him. He’s everything you ever wanted and had no idea you actually needed. But at that moment, the fucker - the man that blows your mind, destroys your pussy, and makes your heart whole - was an asshole.

You found the keys and in a huff, toss his formerly pressed, now newly wrinkled, pants on the floor, absently thinking you’ll pay for that later. The jingle of the keys in your fingers causes Andy to stir and he flips over on his back, the loose sheet grazing just below his hip bone. You still, feeling your heartbeat pick up beneath your breast as your eyes follow his treasure trail beneath the sheet, coming to rest at the shallow rise in the covers. _He’s dreaming_ you surmise. Andy groans softly in his sleep, absently rutting into the thin material. You watch the tent rise until he shifts to his other side, unceremoniously cutting off your view. Asshole got home so late he failed to wake you for a midnight sex session. Now you’re late and unsatisfied. _Great._

And now, with the thoughts of the day unfolding in your mind and your fingers gripping the Audi’s steering will, the idea of wine and a bath aren’t cutting it. With every fucker that cuts you off on the road that’s promptly greeted with your hands pressed to your horn for a solid minute, you want a shot - no! - Two! And a hard fuck against the wall.

You pull up the drive, effectively blocking yourself in again, grab your purse, and head to the front door, your high heels digging into the uneven walkway.

When you enter the foyer, you can see through to the kitchen. You spy Andy sitting at the kitchen island, working on his laptop as the soft glow of the sun setting through the living-room window hits his back - illuminating his body in an ethereal light. Your mood softens, your anger dissipating; twisting and turning into something else. Something new.

At the sounds of the front door closing sharply, the frame shaking in your wake, Andy turns in his chair greeting you with his beautiful smile; the smile that erases every horrible moment of the day, every freckle of human stupidity that forced its existence upon you, is washed from your mind, leaving only...this.

But what is it? 

Andy slides off the stool, standing straight, arms open wide ready to welcome you home into Daddy’s embrace. Because that’s what he is. He’s your husband. Your lover. Your best friend and confidant. And, your Daddy. 

And you’re his _little girl_.

Andy raises an eyebrow, arms hanging heavy in the air as he slowly drops them, trying to gauge your mood. Perhaps it’s not comfort you’re looking for, as he originally thought when you charged through the door a moment ago. Maybe Daddy needs to punish you for something; he certainly will be bringing up why his pants were inside out on the bedroom floor when he woke up.

You watch as Andy slowly rubs his hand over his beard, his mind in conflict at the puzzle you’re presenting to him, especially as you just stand in the foyer, eyes on him, but still as a cold winter's night.

But you’re perplexed yourself, unsure if you have all the pieces of the puzzle you need to sort through to figure out this feeling. This new desire. Andy moves to speak and you lift your finger to your mouth, suddenly, in a _shushing_ motion; slowly putting the corners of the puzzle together in your mind.

Andy isn’t happy. His brows furrow and his ordinarily beautiful face, now cast in an eerie twilight, has the distinct look of _upset_ Daddy. 

Did you really just _shush_ him?

Yes.

_You take a step forward._

Yes. You did. 

You watch as Andy’s chest begins to rise and lower in a hastened pace. He’s hungry and ready to hunt for his food.

But so are you. And tonight - he’s the dinner. Not you.

You take another step forward, dropping your purse to the floor with a resounding thud and shrugging off your coat, letting it fall behind you. Your eyes never leaving his; never faltering

“Turn around.” Your words aren’t spoken as the loving wife, the impassioned lover, and certainly not his submissive little girl. No. Mommy needs to exercise some fucking demons, and tonight - it’s the beautiful man before you that’s going to take your punishment.

Andy doesn’t move - holds his ground - as you move toward him, steadfast and strong. He opens his mouth to speak, again, but your palm meets his chest as you push him back against the kitchen island. You look up into his eyes, hungry eyes matching your own. You grab the hem of his grey t-shirt and lift it up, pulling his arms high in the sky as you rip it from his body, tossing it to the floor.

Your gaze moves lower, breaking your connection, watching your fingers as they gingerly fall to his collarbone, tracing the hard lines before moving down, circling his hardened nipples.

The air is heavy. Something is shifting and you both feel it; it pulls you and drags you beneath the surface. But you’re not gasping for air. No. You want it to fill your lungs. You want it to torment and suffocate you.

Your hands reach the waistband of his joggers and play along the little hairs that peek through at the top. You let your right hand drop to the bulge in his pants, and looking up into his eyes, hazy with lust, you grip him - hard - in your hand.

Andy bites out a grunt, shutting his eyes in something bordering in _oh so exquisite_ pain, but doesn’t try to stop you.

“That’s right, honey,” you say as you rise on your tippy-toes to reach his ear, leaning in, your breath hot against his neck, “tell Mommy how much you love filling her hand.”

Andy’s eyes shoot open as you pull back to search his eyes. You’re not asking permission. You’re not begging for compliance. You’re taking what you want. And by the look in his eyes, Andy fucking wants this too.

You hold his gaze as you drop to your knees, slowly pulling his joggers down just enough to trap his cock in the waistband. You lean forward, your tongue reaching out to tickle the little hairs above his crotch before slowly dragging the joggers lower, freeing his cock and letting them pool around his feet. You tug at each foot, silently motioning for him to step out of the joggers; he obliges and you push the pants out of the way.

Your gaze lowers to the beautiful piece of anatomy in front of you. You hold him in your hand, feeling it thicken in your palm as your other hand traces his sack.

“Mommy loves her little man’s cock,” you coo, “It always fills her up so well.” You give him a few tugs and sharpen your tongue to tease the head before taking him fully in your mouth.

Andy lets out a gasp above you as he jerks forward, his hand falling to your head. You pull back instantly, knocking his hand away as you rise to your feet. “Tsk, Tsk,” you scold him as his eyes darken, “I wonder what Daddy would say if he knew you were treating Mommy this way.”

Andy’s eyes darken at the use of his name on your lips. He _is_ Daddy. But he’ll let you play your little game, and if he just happens to enjoy it as well – merely a pleasant side-effect. “I’m sorry, mommy,” he says, words spoken softly in shame, “I won’t do that again.”

You step back, shaking your head as your eyes travel up and down his body in a disapproving manner, lightly tapping your heeled foot. “Hmm. I wonder…” your eyes meet Andy’s once more, a smirk crossing your face, “what should I do, my little man, for that little indiscretion?”

Andy’s features harden. His body is fire and stone as you devour him with your eyes - tables turned as he stands before you naked, while you remain fully dressed. There’s a silence in the air, the question hanging over you both like liquid fire, scorching your flesh, making you both quiver in anticipation.

“Punish me.”

_Ah_. And there the burn courses through you, scattering the puzzles into place. 

Your face shows no emotion as you tell him to _turn around._ Andy complies, his body jerking as his heated flesh makes contact with the cold island. He remains still. Waiting.

You slowly walk over to him, tracing a finger down his spine, gently dipping between his cheeks. Andy sucks in a breath as your finger plays along his crack. You leave your finger to lazily play over his puckered hole, before placing your other hand on his back, slowly pushing him forward. “Bend over, little man. Mommy wants a full view.”

Andy looks over his shoulder, surrendering all his control to you, giving in to you, as he leans forward. You keep one hand between his cheeks while the other softly reaches up to stroke his beard, “You’ll be a good boy for Mommy, won’t you?” 

His answer is but a whisper over your finger tracing his bottom lip, “Yes, Mommy. I’ll be your good boy. Just for you.” as he turns to face forward, embracing the cold tile of the kitchen island.

You drop to your knees once more, pushing a firm globe, opening him up for you. You let your finger play with his puckered hole, watching it contract at your ministrations as you drag your finger lower to tickle his sack, before you lean in, dragging a long swipe of your tongue from his balls up to his hole then dipping down again to play with his perineum.

You lavvy at the sensitive spot, while circling your digit around his quivering hole. Andy’s groans above you only add to your fire. You may be on your knees tonguing a man, but you feel like a Goddess and the mewls that escape Andy’s throat has your cunt completely charged, soaking your panties. You’re certain there’s a puddle on the floor beneath you.

Your tongue draws up to his opening, joining your exploring finger. Pulling back to rest on your heels, you push his cheeks apart and dive in completely; your tongue darting in and out of his virgin hole. You can feel Andy stiffen above you. Not in trepidation, but willing his body and senses to slow down.

Anal play has played a small role in your sex life. But it was always you receiving. Something you weren’t sure of, initially, but Andy prepared you. Lavished you and opened you up slowly. And the pleasure was out of this world. Never once had you discussed turning the tables. You were certain Andy would never be against it - he was rarely against anything - it just never occurred to you. But by the sounds echoing off the kitchen walls, falling away to the darkness, you should have been doing this long ago.

You push a finger past his tight ring, resistance and a shudder from above causing you to pull it back.

You massaged his ass in comfort, recalling the ways Andy comforts you when he tries something new that may take a few moments for your body to grow accustomed to.

Andy’s head falls to the counter below as he grasps the edge of the island; his breath hot and heavy on his forearms. When he feels your finger retreat, he sighs, languidly, against the tile. “It’s okay, Mommy. It only hurts a little. I know it will feel good.”

You rest your head on his bottom a moment before pulling back once more, thinking. “Hmm. I have an idea, my sweet boy. I know what will help.” You dip your hand beneath your skirt, pulling your panties aside, and push two fingers into your hot, soaked cunt. You fall forward, spreading a cheek once more as your tongue greets his hole again. You time your tongue thrusts with the fingers pushed inside your heat until you’re satisfied they’re fully drenched.

You bring your wet fingers to his opening, pushing a finger past the tight ring once more, finding resistance, but carrying on until you’re knuckle deep and Andy is nearly falling off the counter. His body straightening quickly before falling back down against the island is a heady groan.

You continued to push in and out with your finger before adding a second digit, occasionally dipping your free hand into your pussy to gather more wetness before tracing it back around his opening, aiding in your exploring fingers. 

Andy humped himself into the side of the island, his grunts filling the room as sweat poured off his body. “Mommy, please…” he pleaded.

You knew what Andy wanted, but no, not yet. His weeping cock, which you were certain was coating the island is slick pre-cum, ached for your attention. His attention. _Anyone’s_ attention. It was going to have to wait a little longer. You slapped his ass before standing up, two fingers still inside his aching hole as you leaned over his body as much as your smaller frame allowed. “I’m not done with you yet, honey.”

You pulled your fingers free, slowly, the puckered hole weeping at the loss. You stepped back, admiring your work before reaching over to the cooking utensil holder by Andy’s head, and, eyes steady on his as he watched you intently, you pulled the wooden spoon from its place. His eyes focused hard in the dim light, watching you hike your her skirt up and dip the spoon between your slick thighs, the narrow end sliding back and forth through your lower lips, the utensil darkening with your slick until finally, you pushed it inside your channel with a sigh.

You couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped your lips or the way your eyes tightly shut. It was slender, barely even there, but it was something and your greedy cunt gripped it with all its might. 

Andy watched you fuck yourself with the spoon, his breath dancing dangerously with your moans before you opened your eyes. He loved you submissive. He loved you strong. He loved everything in between. But this – this something new - had him desperate for anything you wanted to delve out.

You pulled the spoon from your drenched hole and stepped behind Andy once more. He knew what was coming, and as you slowly pushed the end of the spoon against his opening, gripping the spoon part tightly, you saw his balls tighten, knowing it wasn’t long before he lost it. 

You fucked Andy with the spoon, gently at first before picking up speed as he begged for his Mommy to fuck him harder. You obliged. After all, he had been such a good little boy. “Yes, right there,” he gasped. “Fuck me, Mommy.”

With quick grunts and enjoying the way Andy rutted against the island, you finally allowed him some peace, “Okay, honey. You’ve been so good for Mommy, you can touch yourself. Make yourself cum for mommy.”

Andy’s hand flew to his cock so quickly it nearly pushed you back, but you held your ground, fucking him with the spoon in time with his unsteady hand, his movements erratic as his orgasm approached. 

His balls tightened and you circled a finger around his perineum, that, with the spoon deep inside him and his frenzied work on his cock, he came with a guttural cry, shooting ribbons of seed against the wall. He seemed to go one for minutes as he rode out his orgasm on the spoon, with your free hand finally coming to rest between his shoulder blades, easing him down as you slowly freed him from the invasive object, dropping it to the floor with an echo.

Andy laid across the island like a Raggedy Ann doll, boneless and limp, occasional shudders coursing through his body as the cold air crossed over his heated flesh leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You rubbed his back slowly, pressing your cheek to his back, finally allowing yourself to soften. To come back to yourself. The self you loved. 

Andy slowly straightened and turned, pulling you into him and suddenly the fucked-up puzzle was put back together again; some Picasso-like image, not entirely making sense except to the both of you, staring back at you. Because you and Andy didn’t fit into a box or a nice photo-finish portrait. You were each not one thing all the time. As unordinary as they were, your pieces fit together perfectly.

He kissed you softly, and you allowed it. Allowed yourself to finally soften in his embrace as you held onto his firm shoulders tightly.

Andy rested his head on yours, pulling you tightly in his embrace. “C’mon, honey,” he whispered, “let’s clean up upstairs. Besides,” he tugged at your disheveled and torn skirt, “your clothes are starting to piss me off. I want them off,” he said with a chuckle.

You smacked him playfully, “Probably shouldn’t bring up what pisses _you_ off.”

“Oh, sunshine,” He tilted your head to meet his gaze, “Daddy let you have your fun, but he hasn't forgotten that his clothes were thrown all over the floor this morning. And you know Daddy hates that.”

The smile dropped from your face as he swept through your core.

_Oh shit._


End file.
